


Want

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [17]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri is Jealous of a Wyvern, Head pats, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Touching, slight mention of Mercedes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25219735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: It is silly, to want this; he won't deny it. But a training session with a leader and his wyvern show him such wants are hard to simply ignoreAlternative POV to the story Touch
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561504
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	Want

The wyvern is not mocking him. It is _not_.

This is the thought repeating itself through Dimitri’s mind, over and around the voices that already occupy the space within. It _should not_ be; they were supposed to be training, Dimitri focusing on the lance and Claude perfecting his flying and axemanship. He was to prove to Claude that he would be no hindrance on the field, that with an ally he could hold back his monstrous strength. With the leader as a training partner such a task would be simple; the mere thought of hurting him makes Dimitri’s hands tremble.

There was no such trembling in his hands now, however. No, his hands were quite tight on the wooden spear given to him, something akin to anger building in his chest.

(It was not familiar, however, this feeling. _Anger_ he knew, stitched to his soul as it was; this was not that.)

Claude kept petting the wyvern that would be his mount - or rather, seemed to _always_ be his mount. Bare of its glove, he ran his hand down the scaly head of the creature, slowly, with a softness on the leader’s face Dimitri had never seen before this moment. The wyvern let out a sound at Claude’s touch, pushing its head further into his hand.

For just a moment, the wyvern looked to Dimitri, eyes half-lidded.

It even seemed to _smile_ at him.

 _It is not mocking me. It is_ **_not_** _._

Claude’s back was not quite to him; he could, if barely, see the smile resting on his face, the slight scrunch of his eyes, directed at the _wyvern._

Ridiculous. 

"Let us be on with it."

Claude jumped and turned to face him, his smile dropped for a neutral line. 

Dimitri found he did not like that.

The wyvern looked to him, dead in his one eye, and seemed to smile _wider_.

Dimitri found he _very much_ did not like that.

He tightened his hold on the lance, careful not to break it but needing _something_ to release some of this… feeling. It was a rare moment where it was not the dead that stole away his thoughts, but while this was a far preferable alternative it was no less frustrating to experience. Be that as it may, he needed to calm down. He was being ridiculous - childish, even. This moment was for training - if Claude needed to pamper his mount for it to be ready to fight, then so be it. It was not worth getting upset over. It was not.

“Alright, I’m going,” Claude says, picking up the training axe he had laid on the ground earlier. Dimitri took a breath. Yes, they could finally begin. They can leave the grounds and go about their day; truly, this moment can be forgotten-

And then Dimitri witnessed Claude’s attention turn back to the wyvern. His gaze took on that soft look once more, that precious smile returning to his features, directed at the _wyvern_. He gives some more pets on the head to _the wyvern_ , _the wyvern, all to that damn wyvern and not- not to-_ **_to-_ **

_Snap!_

He looked down to the lance in his hands, now broken in two. The strange feeling within him _surged_ , and the high of it is still putting him off-balance. He was… upset. He wanted Claude to stop messing with his mount. He… 

“Hey!” Out of the corner of his eye he sees a bare hand placed on his arm. He hears Claude’s worried voice continue, “What’s wrong? Should we stop?”

Dimitri eventually, slowly, placed his gaze on Claude’s hand proper.

_Wrong place._

The thought was sudden and threw him off guard. It was not often such musings came to him, but… perhaps…

He shook his head to try and get rid of the notion. _Ridiculous_. “I am fine,” he finally answers. “Just… give me a moment.”

“Of course. Just wait here, I’ll go and get you another lance-”

_He was not being alone with that damn smug wyvern-_

“I will come with you.”

His words seemed to surprise Claude, his eyes widening just so, but he does not object. He goes to the weapons, Dimitri soon by his side.

He heard shuffling behind him. He felt his body tense against his will.

**_Don’t follow us-_ **

He nearly jumped at a sudden whistle at his side. It seemed to be a command of some sort; not a second before Claude finished did the shuffling stop. It brought on a slight relaxation to Dimitri, the sudden tension in his muscles just as quickly leaving, and they made their way to the weapons rack without further incident.

That is, until Dimitri noticed the concerned look Claude was pointing towards him. “When was the last time you bathed?”

Before Dimitri could think on the question given to him Claude had raised his bare hand and moved it near his face. 

Dimitri froze. He never let his eye miss the movement of the hand coming to him. Claude took hold on a few strands of hair and it was _so close, just a little more, hewantstobetouchedtoo-_

Claude sighs and takes his hand away, and with it most of whatever spell it trapped Dimitri under. He stills feel traces, feels a sort of hum passing through him, the thought of Claude running his hand through his hair giving him such a strange but welcome feeling of... excitement. He could not say, over the course of the time he has spent with Claude and the army, that he has wanted _nothing_ more than the heads of those the dead have deemed unjust, but nothing… nothing made him feel _quite_ so… giddy.

Such a simple thing to make him feel such a way. Perhaps it being so within reach, so _possible,_ so _near,_ gave him hope of it coming true.

“I will. After this session.” That is the truth. It can happen, he knows it, but he must work for it. Cleanliness outside of the minimum to remain healthy was never of interest to Dimitri, but if it may give him what he desires then he shall do it.

Claude looks at him, eyebrow quirked, and lets out a scoff. “You better,” he says, his mouth turning up in a smirk. “C’mon, let’s get goin’.”

As they return to their places from before the wyvern rushes to Claude’s side. It received some last few pats before Claude finally put the leather glove back on. 

Dimitri gritted his teeth, but took his stance. _Soon,_ he thinks, _I too will receive such attention._

It was ridiculous, his wanting this. That did not stop its existence from being true.

\---

He stood in front of the door to Claude’s room, after far too much time had passed. The time it had taken to become _clean_ , not merely _clean enough_ , went beyond what he had initially thought. Scrubbing the grime off of his skin, it seemingly embedded to his being. Polishing his armor, making sure not too much of his Crest given strength would dent or ruin it, a worry to have even despite the armor being made to withstand him. The extent of these two actions were unfamiliar but not out of his realm outright.

Unlike his hair.

That was something he failed to grasp even before all had fallen to ruin. Whenever he tried to care for it himself it always seemed to come out worse for wear, somehow. It was never something he cared for, truly; even then it had never been something to even cross his mind, insignificant so it was. But not now. Now it was of utmost importance that he did not fail this.

He had asked for help. Every fiber of his being rejected the notion of doing so, the mere thought going against all that he lived by. But he thought of the smile given to that mount, the soft gaze, so rare to see, even more rare to have given to _him_ , and he soon found himself in front of Mercedes’ door, where she had given her help with such a cheerfulness as to even make one such as him feel better, if only slightly.

_“Oh my Dimitri, of course I would help! I’m so glad you came to me; you couldn’t have chosen better!”_

(It felt… pleasing. Being in her presence. Perhaps he ought to seek her out more often.)

He shook his head and knocked on the door. 

“Come in!” he hears, and he enters the room. He sees Claude seated at his desk, flowing with papers and books. Claude looks to him with slightly widened eyes, before shifting to a familiar playful air. He whistles, stands, and approaches him.

“Now see, that’s better!” The praise... felt… good. Yes, good. “Was that so hard?” Claude asks with a wink and smirk.

There was a moment’s doubt, that Claude would not give Dimitri what he so wanted. He held back the urge to swallow- _could he simply ask for it? But- no, no, he shouldn’t- but_ -

Then Claude removed a glove from one of his hands.

“Mind?” Claude asks him, his hand hovering just away from Dimitri’s head. Dimitri stood there, letting the words sink in, let them be real, before shaking his head.

Then Claude’s hand was in his hair.

Dimitri’s mind blanked. It was difficult to believe this was truly happening. It was… incredibly hard to describe, the feeling of Claude’s hand running through his hair, his soft gaze, his precious smile focused on him, and _only_ him. He can’t say he can remember a time where something such as this moment has ever happened before; the… joy… he feels now, it is a strenuous effort to explain _why_ it brings him such peace, such a respite from the constant weariness that follows him.

He leaned further into Claude’s hand, wanting to feel more of the warmth seeping from it to grace him. His action caused Claude to laugh - a short thing, quiet, but true, no chuckle or giggle - and it caused his chest to swell and tighten. This was far more rewarding than he could have thought. It felt good. It felt _so good_. 

But, of course, it must end eventually; Claude pulled his hand away. Dimitri watched as strands of his hair followed in between Claude’s long fingers before he slipped the glove back onto it.

“Thanks,” Claude says, stealing the word from Dimitri’s lips.

Dimitri looked away then; this was already so much, but he found he did not quite want this moment to end. He contemplated letting his want be known, to simply ask Claude if he may stay, if for just a little while longer. The words trip and stumble in his mind, the idea of doing such a thing being so foreign; he can’t remember if it was ever easy, but it certainly was not now.

Finally: “I want to have tea. With you.”

Stilted and awkward, he forced the request out of his mouth. Claude tilts his head to the side, seemingly giving the idea some consideration. After a moment, he answers:

“Sure. Lemme go get it ready.”

Another flood of contentment rushes through Dimitri at the approval. To gain such time with Claude proved time and again to give him peace from the reality that otherwise cruelly encompasses him. He could feel his lips twitch upwards, the so long unfelt urge to smile nearly overwhelming him. As Claude turned to begin preparing the table for tea, one last thought slipped through to his conscious:

 _I bet the wyvern is not treated to_ **_this_**.

The words bring about another fight to keep from smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> While I loooove the idea of Dimitri and Claude's wyvern(s) getting along, I also very much like the idea of them having a rivalry for Claude's attention lmao


End file.
